A Winter in Skyhold
by CapriTheBunny
Summary: A Cullen/Female Lavellan Inquisitor fanfiction. Warning for euphemisms for sex. The winters in Skyhold are rather harsh, and Cardamom doesn't want her beloved commander to get sick, or frostbitten.


Skyhold is never warm. Even in summer, a time when most other places would have some kind of heat, but not Skyhold. The summers were cool, the breezes chilly in the morning and evening hours, and barely warming during the day. And the winters… sometimes, they'd chill you down to your very bones. To say the least, anyone not from south Ferelden or Orlais isn't having the best time.

Cardamom knew this well. She'd watched how differently people faired here depending on their origins. Most of the nobles and merchants from Ferelden seemed perfectly suited for the weather, while those from Val Royeaux honestly looked as though they feared they'd become an icicle if they stayed outside for more than a few mere seconds. Personally, Cardamom liked cold, but only to a certain point. Once the temperature dropped to freezing, she would much rather stay inside, cuddling up to her lover with a bowl of warm soup and fresh bread. Unfortunately, with the Inquisition still trying to bring order back into place, she rarely had the chance to stay in. Today was different.

Josephine, fearing the Inquisitor's health would deteriorate if she were to work nonstop for too long, had convinced Cardamom to spend a few days away from her work. So, here she was, watching the stew she'd been working on since earlier that morning. Sighing and rising to a stand, she looked to the balcony, the doors of which were latched shut, and hazy light filtered through. Approaching the doors, she noticed it was around early afternoon, though no one was out on the grounds if they could help it. This winter was rather severe, with howling winds and near-blinding snow. And while she had the fortune of being inside, the soldiers and her Commander were outside, apparently still trying to train in this weather. _Shems, honestly._ Snorting, she retrieved her boots and fur-lined coat, and headed to the training grounds.

Well, _struggled_ would be a better term. To combat the winds, she hunched over, no doubt looking like some sort of half-brained bafoon while doing so. Her hair seemed to refuse to stay in her hood, its dark brown locks whipping her face and causing her to lose her footing multiple times. By the time she reached the soldiers, her normally pale face was nearly rose red, her coat was covered in a thick layer of snow, and she couldn't feel her toes. Straightening her back, she fell smartly on her arse.

"Inquisitor! Inquisitor, are you alright?" She felt pressure on her sides and was quickly lifted back onto her feet. More pressure on her back, a hand she assumed, kept her upright.

"Cullen, I'm fine, I'm fine." Tilting her head up, she saw concern on his reddened, hood-cradled face. "I came to try to convince you to come in and let the recruits not catch their death."

Snorting, he shook his head. "They need to be able to deal in harsher climates and circumstances."

"Yes, but they're more use to us alive than dead from frostbite or in bed with sickness." Planting her feet, she stubbornly stuck out her chin and crossed her arms. He looked rather unamused. Sighing, she could see conflicting emotions cross his face. "Besides, I've cooked you a good meal and, while I _was_ tempted to ask Sera to shoot an arrow with a message over here, I decided to come myself in hopes you'd be more compliant."

"You… Maker's breath, you're always so… _dramatic._ " His face reddened further, and he seemed oblivious to the fact that his soldiers were beginning to watch them.

"Me? Dramatic? Only when I want to watch you redden. Though, it does seem I've drawn us an audience, so if you want to continue this I _could_ think of more embarrassing things to say." She smiled very sweetly as she watched his eyes widen and he whipped to face them.

"No one said for you lot to stop training!"

"Yes, they have. Please report to your barracks, as Commander Cullen now has a meeting to attend." Cardamom grabbed the Commander by his breastplate and began to unsteadily try to drag him along.

"Now, damn it, I never said-"

"Commander, if I have to carry you to the _meeting, I will._ " Cullen, looking like he wanted to strangle her but thought better of it (for now), grunted a sigh of resignation. The entire way back to her room was filled with angry mutterings and grunts from behind her.

After fighting their way back through the hellish snowstorm, Cardamom's shaking hands were barely able to place the key in the locks to both of her doors. Upon entering her room, Cullen closed the door rather loudly.

"Was it necessary, _Inquisitor,_ to embarrass and harass me in front of my men?" Whilst shrugging off her coat and boots, she turned to look at him. His own fur coat was rather haphazardly hanging from his shoulders, and he looked quite angry. Laughing, she made her way upstairs.

"What is it you are so embarrassed of, _Commander_? I simply came and informed you, informally of course, that it's against your good judgement to keep training your men in such conditions, and that I had a priority meeting you needed to attend." She heard his let out an indignant snort and turned to see him at the top of the stairs, a muscle twitching near his right eye.

"You came there, _gave my men an order that directly contradicted me,_ then you pulled me away with some nonsense saying we had a meeting, and threatened _to carry me._ You've made me out to be a fool or worse to most of the newer recruits! Maker's breath, I'll be lucky to walk into the barracks and not be laughed at!" His face, neck, and ears were a deep, vivid red. Cardamom made her way over to him, and gently gripped the sides of his breastplate.

"I'm sorry, Cullen. I didn't mean to undermine your authority, I simply wanted you to come in before you or your men got sick or frostbite." She lightly pecked his chin, his stubble scraping her lips. He sighed softly, his warm breath brushing her face. His shoulders sagged a bit, and his hands lightly pressed against her back.

"I know you worry, but Maker's breath Demmy, there's no reason to march out in the cold like that. It looked like someone dragged you through the snow." He still looked rather frazzled, but less upset. She gently pulled away from him, the tension ebbing away enough for them to notice the delicious smell wafting through the room. She danced away from him, going to check on the stew she left to cook. She could hear the sharp, clanking noises as his armor was removed and hung.

"I know, I know, but I don't like you being out in the cold for so long." While stirring, she looked to him, grinning. "I'm still sorry I embarrassed you, but, love, I hope you realize your men do not take me as seriously as you do when I'm teasing you. I'm fairly certain they know I've been canoodling with their commander, and if they haven't figured it out, well, they may be mentally unsound." She watched him go stock still, the bowls in his hands clattering to the floor.

"C-Can-Maker's breath-" He quickly ducked down to grab the bowls, and turns back to her, striding over. He still seemed to be muttering under his breath, even as he handed her the bowls.

"What is it, Cullen? Surely you know what that means?"

"Know what it- Yes, yes, I know what it means!"

"Then why are you so embarrassed? I'm not that bad, am I? I'm very open to criticism." He let out a choked noise.

"What? N-no, it's…" He let out an exasperated sigh and threw his hands in the air. Grinning, she sat the bowls on the mantle and gently curled her fingers in his shirt.

"Theeeen, what's wrong? I mean, I could use a different word than canoodling. Mate, coitus, copulate, fornicate-"

"Could-could we just talk about something else? Sweet blood of Andraste…"

"Hmm, how about boink, the glorious bed dance, sheathing your sword-"

"MAKER'S BREATH-"


End file.
